


Moment of Tangency

by Loriella



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Praise Kink, Quentin Coldwater is a sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 12:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loriella/pseuds/Loriella
Summary: It's been two years since Quentin and Eliot began working on the mosaic and almost a year since their relationship turned intimate. Sometimes Quentin feels like Eliot chose him because he was the only possible choice. Eliot makes sure to prove Quentin wrong, even if it involves bossing him around a little.





	Moment of Tangency

“The beauty of all life,” Quentin huffed. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

He shook his head a little and took a small piece of blue chalk to color in the missing spaces on the parchment. Then, he nodded to Eliot, who began picking up the tiles and sorting them by color. When Quentin was finished, he looked down on the colorful papers scattered around their makeshift ladder. He sighed tiredly, feeling as if all the different patterns were mocking him. It seemed like they’ve tried all the possible combinations already, at least those which made sense. But they haven’t, apparently, otherwise they would’ve gotten the damn key by now. Quentin let go of the paper and watched as it slowly lowered itself down on the ground.

They´ve been working on the puzzle for nearly two years now, and the word “repetitive” didn’t even begin to describe it. They would come up with a new pattern, lay the tiles and wait for something – _anything_ – to happen. But nothing ever did. For some reason, Quentin thought it would become easier as the time passed. He desperately hoped he’d become numb to the whole thing, but each passing day he’d just lose one more piece of that hope. His anxiety definitely did nothing to help him accept the fact that they were stranded in a magical forest with an impossible-to-solve puzzle. By now, Quentin just felt helpless.

There were times when Quentin felt like this was not what they were supposed to be doing. He felt like they were failing their friends and at the same time wanted nothing more than to give up. There were times when everything felt like it was too much. This was one of those times.

Quentin felt his heart rate pick up. He quickly made his way down the ladder, which made Eliot perk up a little.

“Is it your turn already?”

Quentin let out a hollow laugh.

“Quentin?”

“I’m done.”

“What, you mean you figured it out?” Eliot asked, taken aback.

“No, Eliot. I mean I’m done. With all of this,” Quentin made a vague gesture with his hand.

He saw the exact moment realization hit Eliot. Silence hung heavy between them. Then, Eliot´s expression turned stormy.

“You can’t be done, Quentin. We have to finish the quest. We made that choice the moment we stepped through that clock!”

Quentin scowled.

“You know what, Eliot? I didn’t choose _anything_. I didn’t choose magic, I didn’t choose to risk my life for it and I sure as hell didn’t choose to spend the rest of it here with you!” Quentin’s eyes widened as soon as the last words slipped past his lips. He turned around quickly.

Eliot knew he didn’t mean it. It didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to be alone for a bit,” Quentin said quietly, tears thick in his voice. He strode towards the forest, not bothering to wait for a response.

At some point, he found himself running. He didn’t know where he was going, but the growing distance between him and the puzzle felt liberating. Like he did have a choice after all. Like maybe if he’d run far enough, he’d get his normal life back.

Quentin didn’t let himself think about his life outside of Fillory too much, because when he did, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d think about how much he missed air _without_ opium in it, how he missed the physical kids’ cottage, hell, he even missed the way Penny used to roll his eyes at him. He just wanted his normal life back. If you could even call it that.

What made everything worse was that Quentin felt bad about it. He had Eliot here. He was finally with a man he loved. So why wouldn’t he be happy? Be he wasn’t. Not entirely. It was incredibly frustrating.

It felt artificial.

Whenever Eliot went down to the village or the river, Quentin was left alone with his thoughts. Which didn’t always end well. Sometimes, he’d get this annoying little voice stuck inside his head. The voice would tell him the most awful things, and when Quentin felt too tired to fight it off, he’d start to believe it.

_Do you really think Eliot would choose you if you weren´t stuck here together?_

Yes.

_You are pathetic._

Fuck off.  
  
_There´s no way in hell a timeline where a man like Eliot willingly goes for a nerd like you actually exists. You look like a weird oxymoron of a couple._

Shut up.

_What are you good for, huh? If you really had some brains in you, you would’ve solved the puzzle by now. Pathetic piece of shit._

“I SAID SHUT UP!” Quentin shouted, rage clear in his voice.

A sudden wave of cold air snapped him back to reality. He looked around, confusion clear on his face. The sun was setting already. Fuck, how long has he been running for?

When Quentin realized he didn´t recognize any of his surroundings, panic started bubbling up in his chest again. He tried going the direction he came from but soon enough his attempts were proven futile. The sun had set already and darkness started to envelop the forest, bringing piercing wind with it.

Quentin felt his chest tighten, breaths coming out shorter.

“Fuck.”

He plopped down on the moss, head in hands. His whole body was shivering from cold and anxiety. He tried breathing through it, but it didn’t seem like his heartrate was going to slow down any time soon.

That was just his luck. He was going to die from hypothermia in a magical land that was supposed to save him.

_Yeah, seems like your life has been full of oxymorons lately._

Quentin laughed bitterly, exhaustion keeping him from talking back to the voice. Maybe it was right. Maybe Eliot was just trying to make the best out of a shitty situation.

Quentin’s breath caught once again, his heart squeezed painfully by anxiety. He felt dizzy. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to disassociate and imagine himself somewhere warm. By the fire. Or, better yet, in the cottage, surrounded by friends.

So when he heard Eliot’s voice calling him in the distance, he thought he’d imagined it.

“Quentin?! Where the fuck-”

The voice broke off suddenly and Quentin heard leaves rustling near him. He opened his eyes, shocked to see Eliot running towards him, torch in hand.

“Quentin, what are you doing?”

Frankly, even if he did have time to answer, he wouldn’t be able to string a whole sentence together.

Eliot sat in front of him, taking in his state for a moment. He immediately knew what was wrong.

“Hey, Q, you’re okay. I’m here, baby.”

Eliot was keeping his distance, Quentin noted. Sometimes during panic attacks, he didn’t like to be touched, Eliot knew that. But this was not one of those times. He needed physical comfort. Quentin let out a quiet whine.

“Shh, you’re okay. Can I touch you, darling?”

Quentin nodded slightly and Eliot immediately took the boy’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He put the other hand on the back of Quentin’s neck, keeping him grounded. Quentin felt the pressure on his chest ease a little. He tried to take a deep breath, but it came out shallow and strangled. Eliot squeezed his hand gently.

“Hey, Q, try to inhale through your nose, okay? Remember how we do it? Inhale, hold, exhale. Can you try that for me?”

Quentin nodded again and tried repeating the pattern after Eliot. His breaths kept getting caught.

“No need to rush. Take as much time as you need. It’s okay.”

Eliot was patient. He was sitting next to Quentin, gently caressing his hand with his thumb and quietly humming a melody that sounded suspiciously similar to a Taylor Swift song. Not that Quentin would know, of course.

Eventually, the panic passed. Eliot took off his cardigan and wrapped it around Quentin’s shaking frame. In times like these, Quentin thought that the voice might be wrong after all.

They headed back to the cabin after that. Eliot was staying by Quentin’s side, knowing that panic attacks always left his shaky and dizzy. Quentin let himself be led, too tired to voice his appreciation. When they got to the mosaic, Quentin noticed a few new papers with various patterns added to the pile. He looked away quickly, not wanting to upset himself even further.

That night, Eliot pulled an extra blanked over them and pressed himself closer to Quentin, making him feel protected and loved.

***

That morning, Quentin woke up to an empty bed and the voice back in his head.

_He left you. He’s finally done with your constant whining._

Quentin just sighed tiredly, not wanting to respond to such an obvious provocation. He made a halfhearted move to stand up, but then plopped back down on the bed, not ready to face Eliot after yesterday’s events. He pulled a blanket over his head in a desperate attempt to fall back asleep and avoid dealing with his own thoughts for a few more hours.

He managed to do just that, but was later awoken by the screeching sound of a door being open. He didn’t move, too ashamed to talk to Eliot. Quentin´s breath hitched when he heard the floorboard moaning under Eliot’s weight. He squeezed his eyes and tried to pretend to be asleep to the best of his acting abilities. He felt Eliot standing next to him for a minute. When the door finally closed, Quentin opened his eyes to see a peach and a few strawberries on the bedside table. Eliot knew how much he liked those.

When Quentin felt like it would be ridiculous to stay in bed for any longer, he finally emerged from his blanket cocoon, albeit reluctantly. He slowly opened the door, not wanting to alert Eliot, and peered from behind it.

Eliot was just laying the last few tiles onto the mosaic. He picked up a red tile and put it next to a blue one, completing an odd looking pattern. If Quentin’s eyes lingered a moment too long on Eliot’s waist, where his tunic hiked up to reveal a line of tan skin, it was only for him to know.

“Shit,” he heard Eliot curse quietly when the mosaic refused to give away the key.

Quentin made his way towards the ladder and climbed up, not uttering a word to Eliot, not even daring to look at him. Eliot eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but ultimately decided to play along and get back to the puzzle. Quentin noticed his two-can-play-this-game smirk and felt a sudden urge to _make_ Eliot pay attention to him.

A perfect opportunity presented itself no more than twenty minutes later. He spotted a girl carrying a basket with various fruits walking out of the forest. He quickly hopped down the ladder and ran after her.

“Hey!” He called out, instantly catching the girl’s attention. She turned around with an apprehensive look on her face. Quentin swallowed nervously, not sure what to say next. “Uh- where are you going?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“To the village. Is there a problem?”

“No! I just- you’re very pretty,” Quentin said a little miserably, feeling like he’d just made a fool of himself.

She looked at Eliot questioningly, who was trying his hardest to keep himself from laughing. Then, she turned around and walked away quickly, leaving Quentin embarrassed and blushing furiously. He chanced a look at Eliot to see if, by some miracle, this interaction had worked. But by that time Eliot managed to scold his expression back to his usual nonchalance.

_See? He doesn’t care. He’s not interested in you anymore. If he ever was._

Quentin tugged on his hair harshly to make the voice stop and _that_ got Eliot’s attention. He looked at Quentin, worry clear in his eyes, but went back to sorting the tiles a moment later. The thing was, Quentin knew this was one of those mind games Eliot liked to play, when he- got like this. And he wasn’t going to lose.

Fuming, Quentin beelined to the table, where all the papers were laying and started throwing them around, making them all out of order. He felt bad doing it, knowing how much work was put into it, but Eliot essentially left him no choice. When this didn’t work either, he stomped his way towards the mosaic and didn´t think twice before nudging a neat stack of yellow tiles with his foot, making them all fall over.

He watched in horror as a small piece chipped away from one of the tiles.

“Alright, Quentin, that’s enough!” Eliot stood up suddenly and grabbed Quentin’s arm. Quentin looked at him with wide eyes, feeling his heart rabbiting in his chest. “First you play the quiet game and now throw a temper tantrum? You just wanted to be a little brat today, huh?”

“I- didn’t mean to-”

“You want to tell me why that is?” Eliot asked, ignoring the boy’s attempt to apologize. His expression softened a bit when he saw Quentin struggling to find the right words.

“It’s okay, Q. It’s just me, yeah? Tell me.” He started rubbing soothing circles into his arm, where he had previously grabbed it.

Quentin worried his lip between his teeth nervously, thinking over his answer.

“Need you to take control for a bit. _Please._ Need you to get me out of my head.”

“Yeah? I can do that,” Eliot smiled gently when Quentin spread his arms, asking for a hug wordlessly. “I know how hard it is for you to ask for help. You’re such a brave boy for me,” he whispered, his breath tickling Quentin’s ear.

Quentin’s cheeks pinked again. He didn’t feel like he deserved it yet, but the praise was very welcome.

“Remember how I asked you to come to me when it starts getting bad again?” Eliot asked, his voice stern suddenly.

Quentin nodded slightly and heard Eliot click his tongue disapprovingly.

“Speak up, Q.”

“Yes, I remember,” Quentin said quietly, already feeling where this was going.

“And did you?”

Quentin felt shame burn in his stomach as he said: “No, I didn’t.”

“Next time, before you get yourself hurt again, I want you to ask me for help. _With words_. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

Eliot smiled gently and put a lock of Quentin’s hair behind his ear.

“Good. Now, what do you think I ought to do with that bratty behavior of yours, hmm?”

Quentin let out a nervous laugh.

“What, are you going to punish me or something?”

“If that’s what you want, yes,” Eliot said, not a hint of humor in his voice.

Quentin felt his cheeks burn, he looked down quickly.

“Do you?” Eliot pressed.

“I- El, I don’t- I-” he looked up at Eliot pleadingly, hoping he would realize he was in no state to make such decisions right now. Thankfully, Eliot did.

“Go to the cabin. I’m going to clean this up a bit, okay?”

Quentin nodded and cast one last guilty look on the broken tile before hurrying off to the cabin.

Eliot took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He sat down on the edge of the mosaic, thinking over the course of action. They’ve never went all the way while playing. They’ve only tried this dynamic a couple times really, just sticking to Eliot holding Quentin down or tying his hands and lying close to him until he felt better. This time, however, felt like Quentin needed something more. Something that would make him remember to come to Eliot and not run off into the fucking woods at night.

Eliot took his time cleaning everything up, hoping it would be enough for Quentin to get into the right headspace. Turned out it was, because when he entered the cabin, Quentin was sitting on the bed with a dazed look on his face. Still, his hands were shaking a little. Eliot smiled to himself before sitting down and pulling Quentin on his lap gently.

“You okay, baby? Still sure you want to do this?”

Quentin nodded immediately.  
  
“I need this.”

“Okay. I’m going to go a bit harder on you today, okay? Do you remember your word for when you want me to stop?”

“Cozy Horse.”

“Promise me you’ll use it if anything feels wrong.”

Quentin swallowed nervously.

“I promise.”

With that, Eliot put his hand on the back of Quentin’s neck and squeezed gently, just to remind him who was in charge. He could _feel_ Quentin letting go, now that he knew Eliot would take care of him. His eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes casting pretty shadows on his cheeks. Eliot pressed a gentle kiss against Quentin’s lips, before letting his hands travel down to Quentin’s waist.

He pulled the boy closer, bringing their chests flush together and deepening the kiss. When they eventually pulled back, Quentin rested his head on Eliot’s shoulder, panting harshly. He didn’t notice when Eliot got his hands under his tunic, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Eliot was caressing his skin gently while Quentin tried to catch his breath. He tried to think of something unpleasant to calm down and not get too excited so that this wouldn’t end embarrassingly quickly. Quentin squeaked in surprise when Eliot pinched his nipple harshly, bringing his attention back to him and making his cock twitch in his pants.

“You getting excited already?” Eliot asked, a smile in his voice.

The tips of Quentin’s ears turned red.

“Sorry, I- uh-”

Eliot cut him off.

“I love it, baby.”

Quentin made a small pleased sound at the praise and buckled his hips a bit, searching friction.

“Such a needy boy, aren’t you?”

Quentin nodded quickly and started rutting against Eliot’s growing bulge, making him groan in return.

Eliot let Quentin grind against him for a while, while he caressed the skin under his shirt gently, loving all the breathy little whimpers Quentin unintentionally let out. When Eliot grabbed the hem of his tunic and pulled it up slightly, Quentin put his arms up obediently, letting Eliot pull it off. He couldn’t resist the temptation of flicking his fingers across Quentin’s nipples a few times, just to see how prettily he would react. The boy shuddered and let out a needy moan, his movements becoming more erratic by the second.

Eliot smiled when Quentin forced himself to stop his movements just a moment later.

“Why did you stop, darling?” He asked teasingly, nosing at his temple.

“I was getting close,” Quentin said, already too far gone to feel ashamed.

“Yeah? Just from this?”

“Uh huh. El, can I-?”

Eliot startled a little, not expecting Quentin to ask for a permission to come. They’ve never played like that before, though Eliot knew Q wasn’t opposed to the idea of orgasm control. He fell into his submissive role so naturally, it was beautiful.

“No, not yet.”

Quentin pouted pitifully.

“Oh, stop with your puppy eyes. You know it doesn´t work on me.”

They both knew it was a lie.

“Want you to lay down now, okay?”

Quentin nodded and made his way towards the head of the bed clumsily. Eliot took off the rest of Q’s clothes and folded them neatly, smiling at Quentin’s impatient little huffs. He took his time admiring Quentin’s body, his pretty pink nipples, the soft curve of his waist, his flushed cock.

He looked up as Quentin began writhing nervously under his gaze. His lip was caught between his teeth, eyes wide and almost panicking.

_You are such a slut, ready to open your legs for anyone just to get rid of me._

_You look disgusting._

_He’s judging you._

Quentin shut his eyes quickly and went to tug on his hair again when his hand was caught suddenly.

“Quentin, look at me,” Eliot said firmly, no room for question in his voice.

Quentin opened his eyes slowly and looked up at Eliot.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby. Don’t you see how pretty you are? The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” Eliot felt the slight shudder that went through Quentin at the praise and moved to nip at his jaw gently. “I’m so lucky.”

He made a trail of kisses down Quentin’s neck, licked around his nipples, then down his stomach and stopped just over his flushed cock, not giving Quentin even a moment to realize what’s happening before taking him into his mouth.

Quentin cursed quietly and jerked his hips up so that Eliot would take more of his length. The warning glare he received in return made him halt his movements suddenly and close his eyes to help him focus on staying still. He was awarded with a few licks right over the sensitive head of his cock, which made it that much harder to stay good for Eliot. Eliot started bobbing his head up and down slowly, only ever stopping to swirl his tongue around the tip.

Quentin laid there, enjoying the soft heat of Eliot’s mouth and occasionally letting out soft whimpers until the muscles in his stomach started to tighten and a familiar heat began to spread in his groin.

And then the heat was gone. And so was Eliot’s mouth.

He heard Eliot laugh quietly at his needy groan as he slowly went up Quentin’s body again, leaving a trail of kisses on his skin. He looked into Quentin’s desperate eyes and smiled warmly.

“Need you to tell me when you get close, okay, sweetheart?”

That’s when it clicked for Quentin. His eyes widened slightly as he remembered the conversation about the things they wanted to try in bed. Edging was Quentin’s idea. He kind of regretted it now.

Eliot seemed to notice the hesitation in Q’s eyes, because he was instantly on him, peppering Quentin’s face with soothing kisses.

“You can say no. I won’t be upset, I promise. You’ll still be my good boy. The very best. Okay?”

He waited for Quentin to nod.

“Do you want to continue?”

Quentin nodded again quickly, seeming more sure this time.

His eyes fluttered closed again when Eliot leaned in for a kiss. He moaned into it suddenly, as Eliot wrapped his hand around Quentin’s cock and started moving it slowly. Quentin wanted to thank the gods for Eliot’s huge ass hands, because his palm covered most of his length and it felt _amazing_.

When Eliot started going faster and occasionally swiping his thumb over the sensitive head, smearing the precome that’s gathered there along the shaft, Quentin started feeling dizzy. He turned his head, breaking the kiss, and panted heavily while Eliot moved to nip at his neck gently.

Quentin could only bear a few more seconds before he started careening towards the edge. He tried moving his hips away, but Eliot wouldn´t even slow down the movement of his hand. Quentin moaned loudly, feeling the orgasm approaching. He was right there-

“Close! El, stop. I’m- I’m close,” Quentin said frantically.

Eliot instantly let go of Quentin’s cock, pulling a miserable wail out of him. His heart squeezed painfully when he heard Quentin sniffle. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

“Shh, you’re okay. Did just like I asked. You’re such a good boy, baby.”

The praise managed to put a small smile on Quentin’s face. Making Eliot proud felt good.

“Breathe for a second, okay? Deep breaths, come on.”

When Eliot was sure Quentin was not on the brink of hyperventilation anymore, he placed his hand back on Quentin’s cock, impossibly hard and angry red by then.

They repeated the pattern two more times, which left Quentin almost incoherent and constantly asking Eliot for a permission to come. Eliot slowly kissed away the tears that finally spilled from Quentin’s eyes, waiting for him to come back from the edge again and calm his breathing.

“El, please. Wanna come, please-”

Eliot cut off his begging with a hungry kiss, hand wrapping around Quentin’s cock once again, jerking him off at a fast pace. Quentin felt like he was going to go mad, already anticipating the horrible feeling of having his orgasm taken away. A moment later he groaned into the kiss, which made Eliot lift up slightly and watch his face carefully.

“I’m close.”

When Eliot didn’t stop his hand, Quentin felt the heat in his stomach mix with panic.

“El, stop! I’m really-” Quentin bucked his hips up involuntarily, body going against him. “Oh god. I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, Q.”

Quentin’s mind didn’t even have time to process the command, because he was already painting his stomach with thick ropes of come. He moaned at the intensity of the wave of pleasure that was rolling through his body. It probably took no more than a minute for Quentin to stop shaking and go limp against the bed, but for him it felt like an eternity.

He felt warm breath against his neck and opened his eyes to see Eliot’s face, his pink cheeks, dilated pupils and a warm smile making Quentin feel all tingly.

“Good boy, Q. Came so hard for me. Love you so much,” he said between kisses.

Quentin was about to say how good it was, when he felt Eliot’s warm hand stroking his cock again. He jerked away suddenly, arms flying up to Eliot’s shoulders, not sure if he wanted to push him away or hold on to him.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay, baby. Want you to come again for me. Can you do that?”

“I- um,” Quentin managed, voice hoarse. He really wasn’t sure if he could. He cleared his throat quickly, “I want to try.”

Eliot leaned in to plant a gentle kiss to the corner of Quentin’s mouth.

“Okay, baby. That’s all I ask. Say your word if you want to stop at any point.”

Quentin’s quiet affirmative sound turned into a choked off moan when Eliot resumed the movement on his cock, gently playing with his balls with the other hand. He ran his thumb across Q’s slit a few times, just to see him shudder prettily under him. Quentin came apart so beautifully, his expression completely blissed out, hair thrown across the pillow.

Quentin cried out weakly, hand going to cover his cock when Eliot focused on stroking the tip, trying to bring him closer to the edge. Eliot caught Quentin’s hand and pinned it down by his side.

“Don’t you want to be a good boy for me, kitten?”

Quentin squeezed his eyes, shame burning his cheeks.

“Wanna.”

Eliot took Quentin´s hands and brought them over his head.

“Then keep your hands there for me, okay?”

Quentin let out a shaky breath and nodded. He bit his lip to try and keep the noises in when Eliot started stroking faster. Quentin felt overwhelmed, the new sensation keeping him tense and on edge. It felt weird, pleasure bordering on the edge of pain.

He whined pitifully, alerting Eliot and making him slow the pace of his hand.

“Q, do you want me to stop?”

Quentin shook his head.

“Feels good. It’s just- a lot.”

“I know, baby.”

A minute or two passed, but Quentin was no closer to orgasm than he was before. His lip was caught between his teeth, hands twisted in the sheet, eyes glistening with tears.

“I can’t, El. It’s too much. El-ah!”

Quentin arched his back when Eliot swiped his thumb over the sensitive head again.

“You can. Here, let me just-”

Eliot pulled away suddenly and did a few quick tuts, by the end of which his fingers were wet and slick with lube. He pushed Quentin’s legs open and lightly pressed his finger against Q’s hole. Quentin’s breath hitched, body going tense for a second, before he relaxed again. Eliot pressed his finger in slowly until it was halfway in, watching Quentin’s face carefully for any sign of discomfort. When he was sure Quentin was okay, he pushed his finger all the way in, searching for the spot that made Quentin’s mind go blank every time he touched it.

He was sure he found it when Quentin let out a loud moan that turned into a sob when Eliot pressed his finger against his prostate and held it there, hand never stopping on Q’s oversensitive cock.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” Eliot said, all too aware how much Quentin loved being praised. It all worked out perfectly because he loved praising Quentin. “Being such a good boy for me.”

Quentin felt hot licks of pleasure coursing through him. He loved being called that. Loved being good for Eliot. It made him feel safe and cared for.

“Are you feeling close?” Eliot asked, massaging Q’s spot gently.

Quentin nodded frantically, feeling his stomach muscles tighten once again.

He wasn’t sure if it was Eliot’s hand flying over his cock or his finger swiping over his prostate, but he blanked out a moment later, barely aware of his cock shooting out strings of come. He was trembling all over, moaning loudly as Eliot stroked him through it.

When Quentin finally came to, Eliot had already wiped all the come from his stomach with a damp flannel and threw a blanket over them.  
  
“How are you feeling, Q?”

Quentin smiled contently, feeling warm and relaxed. _Finally_.

“Exhausted. But better. Felt amazing, El.”

Eliot’s heart fluttered at how soft Q looked in that moment. He was so proud of him for being brave enough to ask for help. However way he could. He loved this boy with all his heart.

“You were perfect, baby. So proud of you,” Eliot whispered, nuzzling into Q’s neck. He felt a shudder run through the boy again. He was so precious.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Quentin laid there for a minute, enjoying the afterglow before his eyes opened suddenly.

“You okay?” Eliot asked worriedly when he saw Quentin struggle to voice his thoughts.

“I forgot- You haven’t- um-” Quentin covered his flaming face with his hands, letting out a frustrated groan. He then pointed in a general direction of Eliot’s groin, which made him laugh softly.

“It’s okay, Q. Today was about you,” Eliot took Quentin’s hands in his and placed a gentle kiss to the spot right under his eye. “I’m glad you don’t want to wreck our cabin anymore.”

He knew Eliot’s words were intended as a joke, but Quentin suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry about the mosaic. And about what I said. I didn’t mean it, El. I promise, I was just-”

“It’s alright, curly Q. You were upset, I understand.”

“You do?” Quentin looked up at Eliot, little worry lines appearing on his forehead, which Eliot found incredibly endearing.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know it can be tough for you sometimes and I’m so proud of you for fighting. You don’t even know how strong you are.”

Quentin swallowed noisily, feeling his throat tighten. He _won’t_ cry.

“I love you.”

Eliot kissed the top of Q’s head and smiled softly.

“Love you too, baby. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Quentin wasn’t sure if Eliot was talking about the mosaic.


End file.
